Saturday, August 22, 2015

The New Normal

My home is very empty. Not only of furnishings, but the usual sounds and smells. In fact, new ones are emerging: inactivity, staleness, sitting. Creaks and pops, waiting to be disguised again by the hustle and bustle of a full family. A regular routine. A lived life.

At the end of this year, which if you didn't notice is fast approaching, Pmo and I will have been together for nine years. In that time, we've rarely been apart. I take a few weekend trips each year to see girlfriends, but that's about it. We're very used to being together, doing things together and that's the way we like it. So, needless to say, it sucks when he's more than 500 miles away. Thank goodness for Skype.

Pmo's promotion took him to North Carolina, along with his and most of my possessions. We decided to go ahead with the move before I had secure employment so he could get on with his new role. I'm hanging back until 1. the house sells or 2. I get a new job in Charlotte. We really like the area, so I'm eager to get down there and start exploring our new city together.

Before I start sounding too "woe is me", I know the situation is harder on Pmo. He's the one alone in a new place, though thankfully he knows a few people. I have familiar surroundings and the dogs to take care of and keep me company. I also don't mind being alone. But still, it's just not right being without him.

This weekend, I will mow grass for the first time in more than a decade, possibly longer, I can't even remember. I'll have to take the trash out to the curb Sunday night. I won't be able to turn in early and let someone else take the dogs out. I won't be treated to a great breakfast, then asked with much anticipation, "What are we going to do today?"

But, hopefully, our routine will be back soon, and things will be righted again. Many things will be different though. The dogs will have a fenced yard and no longer need leashes to keep them safe. Trash day will move from Monday to Thursday. We'll have to find a new place for our Friday night happy hour. The smell of bacon and hashbrowns will return, but in a different kitchen. Life, as we know it, will be full again.